The Erotic Mind-Control Story Archive

May 12th, 1998

When Megan awoke, the pleasant memories of her dream began to fade in the manner that dreams always did.

In spite of where she was, Megan managed to smile as she sat up and stretched. For whatever reason, her sleep the past couple of times had not been bothered, and she felt rested when she woke up. It was a little discomfiting that she had grown accustomed to this place, to her white, barren cell.

Night? Day? Megan had lost all sense of time in the endless monotony of sleeping, eating, and thinking. Lots of time spent thinking, gazing up into the endless, white abyss that was her prison. It might have only been days since she had been captured, or it might have been weeks. It was certainbly at least days, she had enough memory of sitting on her butt to know she had been here for a significant period of time. Megan had done a lot of sitting, looking around at a room with a cot, a toilet, and a secured table and chair.

There were times when she felt in earnest that this had to be some sort of nightmare or dream. To be all alone, save for a couple of mysterious individuals who could not have been more different from one another. Did they even exist? Or were they simply creations from her imagination. The man was so familiar, but she couldn’t put a finger on why that was. The woman, she seemed to be a parody of a woman, a picture-perfect bimbo.

She was alone. The room was alone, as empty as she was beginning to feel inside. However, this time, a swath of color captured Megan’s attention.

Getting out of bed slowly, Megan walked over to the table which had been secured in place by bolts. Draped across the table were three, pre-selected outfits. Megan looked at herself, she was still in the outfit that consisted of a lilac blouse and pastel pink leggings. If she’d felt vulnerable before with the dress, it was nothing compared to how she felt now. She should have just taken the skirt. Now, she had a chance to rectify it.

The first outfit was a cerulean sundress. The a-line cut dress was simple in its design, but was no less beautiful for it. Flowers were embroidered along the hem of the skirt and up the left side of the dress. They were the same color as the dress and thus difficult to see, but the more she looked at them, the more Megan smiled. It was a pretty dress. It was accompanied by white tights and a pair of white mary-jane shoes.

The outfit beside the dress was a simple skirt-top combo. The top was a pale pink blouse with sleeves that ended at the elbow in a ruffled cuff. It was cut in such a way to cling to a slender woman’s curves and it certainly caught Megan’s eye. The bottom was a tartan skirt of a darker, bolder pink, and yellow. It wasn’t exactly a schoolgirl’s skirt, but the checkered patterning and the stiff pleats made it look pretty damn close. This was accompanied by knee-high white socks and pink slip-on shoes.

The final outfit was a t-shirt and jeans. It was something Megan would have worn to be comfortable in as she went out for errands for the day. Except... that wasn’t quite right. A sharp pain bit through Megan’s temple and left as quick as it came.

Megan couldn’t remember the last time she wore pants.

The final outfit was something she would never have worn, how silly for her to think otherwise. It wasn’t that pants were a bad thing, necessarily. Sometimes they were more-or-less required. However, even when Megan wore slacks, she tried to find something cute. She was a pretty girl and she liked looking pretty.

In the end, Megan went for the dress. For a moment, there was some hesitation as she remembered taking off a dress for making her feel vulnerable, but that made even less sense than Megan wearing plain-old jeans to go do errands. She had taken the dress off because it didn’t match properly with the tights that had been provided, and the dress she had been clothed in didn’t have any tights or leggings, making her quite cold. It was easy to then reason about why she had taken off the dress. It had nothing to do with feeling vulnerable, unless poor fashion taste made one vulnerable, it just wasn’t her. To Megan, that was something that mattered.

Once the dress was on, along with the other pieces of the outfit, Megan felt better. It wasn’t something she could tangibly put a finger on. She hadn’t felt ill before and, aside from the brief stab to her temple, she didn’t have a headache.

But Megan felt better. It was as good as she could remember feeling since waking up in this place. There were plenty of unanswered questions, plenty to worry about, but she had accepted everything, no fighting. Some girls fought, but not Megan, she would do whatever she could to avoid it. And now, well, she had been given some measure of control over what she wore. She took it as a sign of good faith by her captor. She was behaving well and he was rewarding her.

There were so many twists and turns in her logic that it would have looked like a pretzel if it had been given shape. However, Megan’s thoughts sailed right through the loopholes. Things were going well, she had some measure of control, she would just see the rest of it through.

Unfortunately, the clothing was the only positive thing for a good long while. Meals were served, but outside of that, there was no indication that either the man or the woman still existed. It would have been easy to think they had abandoned this place and left her behind. However, the meals showed up regularly. She could almost tell the time by them.

Megan noticed something else about the meals. She had always been a fairly health-conscious person. Megan never had body issues, but she took pride in her slender body. She wasn’t flat, but she wasn’t worrying about her girls dragging her down with them any time soon. Her waist was thin, even if her hips were only barely wider. The point was, she was happy with it.

However, the food that was being served was not exactly the health-conscious food Megan would have chosen. She wasn’t a vegetarian, but her diet was mostly plant-based. While greens and other vegetables made their way into her meals, she noticed a gradual increase in the fatty foods. There was plenty of meat, but it was, thankfully, not the heavy kind. Instead, there were lots of seafood dishes, with fish and scallops and clams. If it weren’t for the fact that she was here against her will, she would have been able to appreciate the quality food she had been given.

The problem was, as good as it tasted, Megan had begun to notice that she had a little more butt, hip, and thigh a bit more. The bra that had been placed with the dress had been marginally bigger than any bra she had worn before. She hadn’t noticed at first, until she realized that her bra was uncomfortably small. Taking it off, she had discovered that it was, in fact, larger than anything she had worn. In spite of that, her chest had certainly showed some of the biggest signs of growth. They weren’t obscene or comical by any means, but they were definitely more noticeable.

Whatever was going on here, it was clear that they did not intend for Megan to be the same person she had been before this place. As Megan contemplated that, it didn’t take long for her to realize that other things didn’t add up as well. Some of her memories about the place were inconsistent, a few were even contradictory. At first it had given credence to her suspicions that it was all a dream. However, it became more and more obvious that something else was happening.

Megan wasn’t a genius, but she was a bright girl. AP classes, top marks, she studied and did her homework. She came to conclusions by piecing together evidence more quickly than many of her other peers. She was smart, and proud of it. Sure, it was easy for others to underestimate her, she wasn’t nearly as assertive as some of the other girls in her classes, who were often more competitive than the boys. She also cared about her appearance to a degree that most of her classmates didn’t understand. She had appeared like a stereotypical “popular” girl and she hung out with girls like Vix, Mags, and Freddie, who flunked tests and cheated where they could. In fact, they often turned to Megan for help.

Self-reliance had become a big thing for Megan. Even though she loved her parents, they didn’t exactly understand why she hung out or chose friends like she did. When she dated Jake, they were worried he was a temporary fling and even when it became apparent that there was something real there, they gave Megan her space.

The pieces weren’t adding up. The inconsistent memories, the general fogginess, and the fact that they were physically changing her were incongruent with her thought that she was merely being held captive. She was being experimented on, and that thought terrified Megan. Were they experimenting with her head too? Were the other dreams something more sinister?

With everything else that was happening, Megan couldn’t rule that out.